Drunk on Shadows
by Gadget 151
Summary: Dante is reliving the events of Mallet Island, but it seems like someone is pulling his strings. Are demons even real? Or is it just some sick joke prearanged by some twisted god? Dante is losing his mind and he needs some answers.Chapter 7 up now. R & R
1. Prologue

**Devil May Cry**

**Devil May Cry belongs to CAPCOM. I own the plot, nothing else. Hope you enjoy. I don't know when I'll update next. -Goopay**

**Drunk on Shadows**

"_Hiding underneath the veil of broken dreams, we find her weeping. On her once white wings she will be carrying the weight of our deeds, and she bleeds for love forever gone. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie, killing ourselves a kiss at a time. Devils dance while angels smile. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie. Finding souls to feed the nightside of Eden, we see the struggling for her love's last breath and walk off. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie, killing ourselves a kiss at a time. Devils dance while angels smile. Drunk on shadows and lost in a lie."_** H.I.M. "Drunk on Shadows"**_  
_

**PROLOGUE**

The sword swung in a graceful arc, the blade actually made a whistling sound as it cut through the air. It was just that sharp, double edged and deadly; the thing it cut through didn't stand a chance, such was the force of the killing blow. Pieces of decaying flesh fell to the ground and dissolved into mush; a man with white hair stepped over the disgusting pile as he sheathed the heavy blade. He continued on his way, ignoring the sound of sirens in the distance.

The man wasn't as old as his shock of white hair made him seem, he was actually just entering his late twenties. His white hair wasn't a dye-job and it wasn't some medical ailment, it was all natural even if the man it belonged to wasn't. All natural that is. Dante Sparda was a little less than natural and more unnatural, he was a demon. Okay, truth be told, he was half demon. His father had been a demon, but he'd also been one of the good guys; rallying against his own kind to save all of humanity. Of course, dear old dad was dead now; he'd sacrificed himself to save Dante's mother and brother. Not that it mattered, seeing as they were all dead now anyway, kidnapped and murdered by the demons his father had failed to kill. Demons that had worked for a dark lord; one of the many 'dark lords' out there.

So Dante had picked up his dad's old sword, Force Edge, and taken it upon himself to pay the bastard back. And he'd kill every demon in his path until he'd had his vengeance. It might take awhile, but Dante could wait. He would wait, as long he had to wait, he'd get his payback though.

The phone rang; that annoying beep-buzz that seemed to penetrate through his skull and tangle over his nerves. "Devil May Cry,"

"I have an assignment I need someone to take on." A man's voice said.

Dante frowned; the man hadn't given the word. "Sorry, we closed at nine." He said and hung up the phone. "Again, no password. I can't seem to get any real business."

There was a roar of an engine, a motorcycle engine to be exact. Then the front wall of his shop burst open, slinging wood, glass and various other things into the room. Dante put his booted feet on his desk as he leaned back in his comfortable chair like that sort of thing happened every day. A woman on a red Ninja motorcycle was parked in the middle of his shop; she was dressed in revealing black leather that left little to the imagination and red wire-framed sunglasses. She was lightly tanned, her long blonde hair falling down her back to fan out just above her nicely shaped ass.

"Whoa! Slow down babe," He said and the woman turned off the cycle, dismounting with ease and coming to stand at the edge of his desk. "Well, well, what do we have here? Nature calls? It's in the back,"

The woman was silent, walking around as if she owned the place. She looked at each of his 'trophies' of the demons he'd killed over the years with a studied gaze. "So," She said and her voice was sultry and soft, exotic. "You must be the handyman that will take any dirty job. Am I correct?"

Dante stood. "Almost," He said, walking to the nearest wall and taking his sword from its rack in front of a Hustler poster of a partially nude chick with stars over her nipples. "I only take special jobs... If you know what I mean."

Twisting the sword with a lazy type of skill, he stopped a few feet away from the woman. She put her hand on her hip. "You're the man that lost a mother and a brother to evil twenty years ago," She said. "The son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda... Mr. Dante."

The sword quivered lightly in his hand, reacting to his shock and his anger. "Well the way I figure it, in this business a lot of your kind comes along, and if I kill each one that comes, eventually I should hit the jackpot sooner or later." He lifted his sword, lined the tip up with the woman's neck; she didn't flinch and that should have been the tip-off.

"In that case," She said. "You should be used to this sort of thing."

The woman grabbed the sword in her palm and yellow lightening erupted from her, dancing up the blade and striking Dante. He screamed because, though he'd had worse, it did still hurt. She let go, spinning around to kick him in the mouth but at least she wasn't electrocuting him any more. He hopped back but not quick enough to avoid the kick that sent him flying into his desk with a clatter of wood and metal. He attempted to get his feet underneath him, to put himself back on the offensive but at that moment, the sword he'd used to kill countless demons was embedded in his chest; thrown by the leather clad woman. He was pinned, very pinned matter-of-fact and the woman's next action was to send more of that yellow lightening into the hilt of his sword so that it acted like some ghetto lightening-rod. He screamed again and the woman laughed.

"Are you really the son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda? Didn't your daddy teach how to use a sword?" The electricity suddenly stopped and Dante used the opportunity to go for his guns.

Enough of this bullshit. "A sword, please," Hammers pulled back and a round in each chamber, Dante's fingers hovered over each trigger, ready to squeeze down. "Time to go to work guys,"

The woman had thrown the Ninja at him, another tip-off if there ever was one and Dante, calling forth what powers he could, stilled the bike and let loose with his guns. The bike exploded, throwing the woman to the floor and Dante stood up; his own sword still jutting from his chest.

He towered over the woman. "Even as a child I had powers, there's demonic blood in me."

She took a crawling step back. "What strength," She whispered and Dante pulled the sword from his chest, the wound gushed blood but he paid it no mind, throwing the sword so that its tip stuck into the floorboards.

"You were the first one to know about my vengeance; looks like I'm getting close." He pointed the gun at her, deftly putting another round into the chamber.

She stood, staring him down behind her sunglasses. "It seems that way but I'm not your enemy." She turned away from him, as if preparing to flee. "My name is Trish; I came here to seek your help...To put an end to the Underworld."

Of all the cock and bull stories... "What?"

The woman turned back to him, taking off her sunglasses. He faltered, suddenly seeing the face of his mother; the gun lowered a few inches. "Twenty years ago, Mundus, the emperor of the Underworld, resurrected."

"Mundus?" Dante repeated incredulously, wondering whatever happened to Lucifer. Wasn't he supposed to be the king of hell or something?

"Yes, his powers were sealed by Sparda; he's attempting to gain control of the human world once again. He is preparing to open the gate on Mallet Island."

It was all he needed to hear. A badass demon, once defeated by his dad was up to old, useless tricks. But daddy dearest wasn't here to stop the bastard. Dante sighed; he wouldn't even get paid for this.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: DMC belongs to CAPCOM and all that jazz. Plot's mine. Sorry it took me so long to update this one. Gadget**

**CHAPTER 1**

However, that had been several years ago, and now, Trish was dead too. It seemed a lot of the people he'd ran around with, a lot of the people he'd taken jobs for that is, were dead or had just disappeared. Not that Dante gave a shit, but it was something he kept locked away in his mental filing cabinet, just for future use. Just to keep stock of things, to see if there were any patterns; because patterns meant a suspect. And in Dante's business, suspects were usually something less-than human.

His stereo blasted out a Rob Zombie song, the dark music putting a fuse next to his adrenaline and holding it there. It was days like this that got the demon slayer feeling down; days like this when the liquor cabinet was wide open and Dante didn't even use a glass. 'Death of it all' rapped up, Dante nodding along as he cleaned his guns Ebony & Ivory. 'Foxy Foxy' began with the beat of the drum and Dante's foot beat out the tempo, putting his guns back together. As the song got to its chorus, Dante let his body move to the music.

Most people took music for granted but he knew that it was all about the movement and what it did to a person. Rob Zombie's music, for instance, made Dante want to dance and if he had his iPod with him while he was hunting, then it made him want to shed some blood. Preferably not his own blood.

The phone rang; he turned the music down a few notches. "Devil May Cry," He said.

"In blood there is truth," A voice said into his ear.

Dante smiled; someone finally knew the password. "How may I help you?"

"The police have tried to cover this up," The voice said and Dante pulled a notebook and a pen from his desk, preparing to write down any details. "Do you know the flesh club on Sunset?"

"Yeah," Dante said. "What about it?"

"Some of the girls have gone missing," The voice said. "Not like normal 'missing' there's been things left behind. Occult-like things, reversed pentagrams, goat horns and some other freaky shit."

"Yeah? Sounds like the cops can handle it to me," Dante said, he needed a real demon-slaying job, not some missing girl sort of shit, he needed something that paid. The kind of job that would let him get his hands dirty with blood and grime; the kind of job where he could bring home another 'trophy.'

"Don't hang up! Two of the girls have been found, they were skinned alive; whatever did it left their muscles and organs in place. There wasn't any damage to anything under the skin. Nothing human could pull that off without leaving some trace, so far we've- the cops haven't got a thing. Other than they all worked for Devotion."

Dante felt one brow rise; Devotion was the head of the flesh trade and no one fucked around with her girls without permission or there was hell to pay. "You sure this ain't some turf war?" He asked.

"The cops are sure, yeah, so is Devotion. She said to get in contact with you; she can pay you ten-thousand a day to look for the bastard that's hurting her girls. Bring whoever it is to her, alive so she can fuck him up and she'll double it."

Dante whistled. "I'm in; I'll be there in thirty." He hung up without another word.

(pagebreak)

Mallet Island was not the sort of place that Dante would normally take his vacation. No, he preferred a white sandy beach, palm trees and hot women in sexy bikinis. Mallet Island looked more like a fortress, its battlements large and threatening, they dominated the landscape. And then there were the trees; ancient looking things, so old that they had become petrified with the passing of time.

Then there was the castle itself. Gothic in its design, complete with high towers, a drawbridge and stained-glass. It was decaying rapidly with the increase in storm-related activity. But Dante could feel the air of danger and foreboding surrounding the island like some blanket. It was like a shield almost; a barrier to the outside world, to the human world. Mallet Island wasn't even on a map; Trish had led him there. The word trapped whispered over and over inside his head but he ignored it.

That was when he'd found the relief of the Judge of Death. It had been a statue imbedded in the wall with a sword jutting from its chest. He had already discovered that in the castle, things weren't as they seemed but the sword seemed to call to him.

"I am Alastor." The voice whispered inside his head. "The weak shall give their souls to me."

And then the sword had flown from the wall, striking Dante in the chest and pinning him to the ground. Everything went black. Then there was nothing but blue light and searing electricity, and the pain. Dante couldn't forget the pain. But he'd shaken it off, standing, letting the sword pass through his body like it wasn't even there. The sword had aloud it, letting him know right then and there that Alastor belonged to him.

But it had still hurt like a son of a bitch.

(Page break)

Devotion's club was called "Nevaeh". Heaven spelled backwards, sometimes it seemed like only Dante got the irony. For someone kicked out of heaven, Devotion had a decent sense of humor. Or maybe it was just macabre, whatever it didn't matter to Dante.

Anyway, Devotion was waiting for him at the bar, stirring her scotch by moving the glass around. She was dressed like your average business woman in black pin-stripe jacket and skirt combo. Her ebony hair fell in waves all around her and stars seemed to shimmer in the strands. She looked at him with mascara rimmed blue eyes.

"Oh Dante," She said and her throaty voice was a purr. "So good of you to come."

Dante leaned against the bar, trying to look cool and calm. He was very far from either of those emotions though; Devotion screamed a promise of amazing sex and the best smoke anyone had ever had.

"I'm at your disposal babe," He said.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: DMC belongs to CAPCOM and all that jazz. Plot's mine. Sorry it took me so long to update this one. Gadget**

**Chapter 2**

Devotion was actually as tall as he was, her blue eyes looking directly into his green ones. Those eyes had gotten her tossed out of Heaven millennia's ago, those eyes could see all the way down to the soul. Dante could look into them easily being that his soul wasn't that of a human's.

It was after business hours and only Devotion, the bartender and the bouncer were present. The bartender had his back to them, leaning over a built-in sink while washing glasses, his shoulders hunched. The bouncer though wouldn't take his eyes off Dante, measuring him up and down behind those stupid-looking wraparound sunglasses. He was obviously making sure that the hunter didn't try to hurt his boss, Dante would never hurt Devotion. She'd never let him.

The bouncer wouldn't have a chance against Dante anyway. Brute strength and thick-headedness were nothing when compared to his know-how and demon skills. Not that he was bragging or anything it was just the truth. The bouncer wouldn't have a fucking chance.

"When did your girls start to vanish?" Dante asked Devotion as she knocked back the rest of her scotch.

"A week and a half ago," She told him. "Cheri was first to disappear. She went in the back to entertain a client; the client came back by himself. I called Cheri's cell phone but I didn't get an answer. She still had two hours until she was off."

"But the John came back right?"

"Yeah, minutes after Cheri took him in the back. There wasn't any time for him to kill her Dante, he was back too soon."

Dante couldn't really agree with that, there were demons that could slow down the passage of time. Actually, they slowed down the perception of time and not time itself. But the slayer wasn't in the mood to argue those points; he just wanted to get paid.

"Who else? The guy that contacted me said there were two bodies found."

Devotion pulled a napkin from the bar and dabbed at her delicately painted eyes. "Blossom."

Dante felt one of his white brows shoot up. "Cheri and Blossom?" He asked.

The woman nodded. "Nevaeh has a theme, Hunter."

"The Garden of Eden," He said. "Like I really care. Tell me about Blossom,"

"Such a sweet girl, she was only in this work to pay off some student loans. It's the same story every time with these girls, but with Blossom, it was true."

"Same line of questioning Devotion," He said dryly.

She signaled to the bartender and the kid brought her the bottle of scotch. She took a long swig and then passed it to Dante. "She got off at her normal time; she was leaving in a few days to see her mom on the East Coast. Blossom was supposed to call when she got home, I like to know my girls got wherever they were going safely. But she never did. I sent Bubba to her place to check on her and he found...those things."

"What sort of things?"

"Bubba, come here."

The hulking bouncer came toward them, towering a good foot over Dante and much wider through the shoulders. But he couldn't stare the Hunter down, very few people could, hell, very few demons could stare Dante down. But this human gave it an effort at least before looking down at his boss.

"Tell the Hunter what you found at Blossom's apartment."

"A lot of blood," He said and the way he stood at attention made Dante think the man was probably ex-military. "No footprints in the blood, which is hard to pull off, given the sheer amount of it. Blossom was in the bathroom tub, I only knew it was hers 'cause of her eyes; she had funky contacts. Her skin was all gone but other than that...she looked like herself. There were a bunch of candles around, the power wasn't working and there was this smell like brimstone or something. Plus there was this weird glow hovering 'round the bathroom."

Maybe an ex-cop, now that Dante thought about it. "You call the law?"

"An anonymous tip from a payphone," The man said.

"Good, then what?"

"I hacked into the database and read the coroner's report. The guy had made a note linking Blossom's body to another they'd found in a dumpster on 50th. The other body had to be Cheri's."

"Or another woman's," Devotion offered. "But I don't want to think about this demon killing some other innocent girls."

_Like strippers were all that innocent, _Dante thought but then remembered Blossom's reason for getting in the biz. To pay off some loans so she could start a real life somewhere. That constituted some level of innocence or maybe just naiveté.

"What makes you think it's a demon doing this shit?" Dante asked.

Devotion reached into her purse on the bartop and pulled out a silver coin similar to something he'd seen on Mallet Island. Shit, demon indeed.

"Right then, demon it is." He muttered.

Devotion's purse snapped shut. "I can pay double your normal fee and I'll triple it if I can have a go at this bastard myself."

(pagebreak)

Smell of brimstone, candles and a weird glow. Run-of-the-mill summoning as far as Dante was concerned. There was always the chance it was some punk with a grimore fucking around with powers he couldn't begin to understand, but that was pretty rare. No, this was the real deal, a demon in Las Vegas. Go figure.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: DMC belongs to CAPCOM and all that jazz. Plot's mine. Sorry it took me so long to update this one. Gadget**

**CHAPTER 3**

There was something about Nelo Angelo that made the hair on Dante's arms stand on end. It was more than just 'something'; it was a lot of something's, plural. Maybe it was the man's silence, most demons liked to brag, to talk around Dante until he cut them down. But Nelo Angelo wasn't like that; he unsheathed his sword, pointed it at Dante and beckoned him out into the courtyard. Dante followed obediently; hand on the butt of his gun Ivory.

He jumped over the balcony railing, landing in the small courtyard bellow. Alastor shuddered in the sheath on his back; obviously reacting to Nelo Angelo's demonic aura. The fight began and Dante could not shake the feeling of familiarity as their swords clashed.

(pagebreak)

Jobs were starting to pile up but Dante couldn't look into them until he finished the job Devotion was paying him for. He needed the money; ammo was getting expensive. So was polish for Alastor and Rebellion, plus the various other weapons he had stashed around the Devil May Cry apartment.

Not to mention the money he paid Camille for her 'services'. The woman was his sometimes lover, ever though he paid her. A year ago, when he'd done his first job for Devotion, Camille had shown up at his door as payment. The dancer was beautiful, Dante had to admit, and he hadn't been able to part with her. However, they weren't friends; she was still an exotic dancer that had to be paid. The Hunter didn't care, he enjoyed the things they did; the sex. It helped him unwind, gave him a thrill and was an amazing time. He was smiling as he open the door on the top floor of his apartment above his business. He could sense her somewhere on the floor, somewhere waiting for him.

He could hear the beat of music thumping from underneath the door as he came to the top of the stairs. He felt a grin begin to spread on his face, the job for Devotion could wait a day or two. The murders were still few and far between; Dante had plenty of time for a little fun.

He threw open his bedroom door; Camille was inside, waiting for him. She was scantily dressed in a Victoria's Secret panty and bra set that barely even covered her. She had the body of a goddess and the delicate face of an angel framed but long brunette hair. Her hooded dark eyes, framed by black eye liner and mascara looked at him seductively as she danced around his room in stiletto heels.

Dante shut the door behind him and kicked off his boots. Camille danced her way to him, swinging her body to the beat of the music like a mesmerized serpent. She put her hands on his wide shoulders and he kissed her hungrily, slipping his tongue into her mouth as she did the same. Their mouths battled and a moment later she ended the kiss.

"Take off your clothes," She instructed him in her sultry voice as she gyrated her body for him. She danced away from him, giving him an excellent view of her ass and the graceful slope of her lower back as she turned away from him.

Dante jerked his leather jacket from his shoulders, unzipped his Kevlar vest and tossed it to the ground. His shirt was next, the thick and protective material slid easily from his body and joined the vest on the floor. His jeans, outfitted with thick leather to protect his legs; he'd let Camille take care of that. Thankfully all his weapons were downstairs in the safe; he hated to part with them, to be unarmed. But he hated to have them around when he was getting busy with Camille.

She came back to him, gave him another of those searing kisses that boiled his blood and then pushed him down on the bed. She jerked the leather belt from his pants and went to her knees as she pulled them off him, letting her face touch the skin of his thighs and the cloth of his boxers. Dante growled in pleasure, reaching out to her, tangling his hand in her hair as her mouth went to work on his abs and stomach; tonguing the muscles there. He unlatched her bra and she slung it off, he kneaded her breast, pinching the nipples when she was within reach.

He was hard already, his erection straining at the front of his boxers and Camille undulated against him until he kissed her. She bit his lip as she pulled away, kneeling before him on the floor and releasing him from the confines of his boxers. Camille smiled at him as he sat up, the beat of the music pounding in his chest. She took his dick into her mouth and all the way down his shaft without a word. He growled in pleasure.

(pagebreak)

Nelo Angelo slammed Dante into the stone wall by his throat. He struggled, kicking his leg out because his sword was stuck in a wall somewhere and his guns were lying on the ground. The other demon was too strong but Dante wasn't about to give in. He kicked out with his leg out one more time and Nelo Angelo backhanded him. The slap was so hard that the amulet his mother had given him jerked on his chain and fell out of his vest.

The demon looked down at the amulet and immediately let Dante go, dropping him to the ground. Then he was gone and Dante was left desperately trying to breathe.

Sorry it took so long for me to update this one, but thanks for sticking with the story and waiting. I'll try to work on this fic more often, but school has started now and I'm a Junior so I don't know when I'll have the time. It was so much more easier to work on this during the summer. Gadget


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: DMC belongs to CAPCOM and all that jazz. Plot's mine. Sorry it took me so long to update this one. Gadget**

**CHAPTER 4**

Camille had left before Dante had even woken up, having locked the door and reset the alarm on her way out. He knew that the woman knowing so much about his life- his door code, his style and where he liked to be touched- was a bad idea. She was an open door to his life and an excellent weakness for another Hunter to exploit. But this was all subconscious knowledge; every last bit of it a piece of his human instincts. The demon in him, the piece of Dante that had the most control, could care less about those instincts. The demon could handle itself just fine. At least that was what the demon told Dante as he padded naked to the bathroom for a hot shower.

It was just another day, the demon told him. Just another same shit different day, both the demon and Dante knew and accepted that. It didn't mean that he had to like it.

His cell phone rang the minute he got out of the shower. He didn't bother to dry off, he didn't even think about it. The wet footprints would be evaporated by the time he got home anyway. So, nude and dripping water all over the place, he walked from the bathroom to grab his phone out of the charger.

"Dante," He said into the mouthpiece. The rule about his cell phone was different, if he gave someone the number that meant they didn't need the password to talk to him.

"Hunter," Devotion's voice intoned.

"Yeah?" He asked a little breathlessly and frustrated. Her voice did things to him; pleasant things. Her voice turned him one, made him hot and made him hard. It was a dangerous reaction to Adam's first wife. Even the demon inside knew that, had warned him of that very fact more than once before.

"Another of my girls was found this morning." She told him. "I tried her home and mobile when I didn't get an answer I sent Bubba over to her place."

He was only half listening, moving about the room searching through his clothes. The phone was balanced between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled on another pair of leather lined denim, went through the motions of putting on his various holsters with quick precision.

"Are you listening Hunter?" Devotion demanded.

"Yeah," He sat on the bed and pulled his boots on over his socks. "Who's the girl?"

"It's Camille." She told him.

The phone fell to the floor with a resonating thud.

(pagebreak)

The glass splintered and then shattered underneath the Phantom as the giant demon spider collided with the skylight. His scream echoed as fell into the atrium and was impaled on the spear of the statue. Dante stepped up to the shattered glass, hands resting idly on the butts of his pistols and looked down.

The Phantom squirmed feebly, its disgusting blood spraying out all over the mosaic floor. Dante licked the blood on his lower lip and Alastor hummed with power on his back. Electricity shot from its hilt in excitement; the demon blade was alive with satisfaction.

"This power..." The Phantom said. "It can't be...Sparda..."

Dante put his guns back in their holsters. "It's not," He said. "I'm his son, Dante."

(pagebreak)

Dante thought about stopping for a coffee but decided against it. His demon heritage could metabolize anything in his system; caffeine included. What was the point in spending three bucks on a coffee when he wouldn't even get a buzz out of it? Demon blood with the ability to neutralize any toxin was great when it came to poisons but shit when he needed a pick-me-up first thing in the morning.

The clock read 3:18pm. Alright, he thought, a pick-me-up first thing in the afternoon. Still coffee would be nice, maybe he'd grab some anyway. Not likely though, the sooner he got to Nevaeh the better. The easier it would be to track whoever had summoned the demon. The bastard had killed Camille that much was obvious now; if Devotion couldn't reach her then it stood to reason that she was another victim. Her soft skin the trophy of some evil demon fuck-head.

Dante's hands tightened on the steering wheel of his Chevy; knuckles turning white. It bent in his hands and he took a steadying breath to help calm down. The fucking demon bastard had gone after Camille, probably moments after she had left his place. The girl hadn't been solely his or his girlfriend, but he had considered her a friend of sorts. Her death made the situation personal; he wasn't going to hold out any more just for extra money.

That sick fucker was going to get something special from Dante. A shot right between the eyes from a specially made bullet of blessed steel and a mix of holy water and silver nitrate in its core. Hell, maybe he'd shoot the fuck head a couple of times; actually, that was his plan.

All that remained of Camille was a lock of dark hair and a lot of blood. Dante balled his fist in front of his mouth; his teeth touching his knuckles which were white. He struggled with his control as the demon part of him itched and bit and clawed at his insides and his senses, begging for release.

Dante pushed it all down, the urge to Devil Trigger, to scream in anger and to slam his fists into everything. To simply destroy all in his path; that sort of thing, simple mindless violence without gain, would not bring the woman back.

But it would make him feel better.


	6. Chapter 5

**Devil May Cry belongs to CAPCOM. I own the plot, nothing else. Hope you enjoy. I don't know when I'll update next.- Gadget**

**CHAPTER 5**

They had been using a mild sedative to restrain the figure in room 118. But over time it became noticeable that the mild sedative wasn't enough to keep the figure in room 118 placid. They progressed to physical restraints and a much stronger sedative. A week later, the figure in room 118 had built up a resistance to the new sedative and the physical restraints had become frayed and useless.

They progressed to heavy chains.

(pagebreak)

Dante parked his truck in the lot at Nevaeh, slamming the door and then walking around to the trunk bed. He pulled out Alastor and stuck the demon-made sword in the scabbard on his back. Then he checked his guns and made sure there was a round in both chambers. He wasn't completely sure if his special bullets would harm Devotion or not but he was pretty sure he'd find out.

Bubba wasn't at his normal post at the door; no one was at the door. It was unlocked and partially ajar. Dante nudged it with his foot; gun in hand. Once again Devotion sat at the bar nursing a glass of amber liquid. Her long dress touched the ground in a slinking wave, the soft light of the club reflecting off the purple cloth.

She drank the last of the liquid and sat the glass upside down on the bartop. "Hunter," She said.

"Devotion,"

She stabbed out a cigarette in the glass ashtray and then she stood. She sashayed her way to him as a suggestive beat began to pound from the hidden speakers. He did not holster his gun, if anything, his grip tightened on the weapon.

"Where's the demon?" He demanded.

Devotion moved to the music and Dante took half a step back while raising his gun.

"Where is the demon?" He repeated.

"I'm right here Hunter."

The woman that stepped from behind Devotion had to have been the dancer Blossom at one point in time. Her dyed hair was the color of cherry blossoms, long and wavy and luminescent in the club's lighting.

Dante knew that she was the demon he was hunting, as if Alastor vibrating on his wasn't a clue in itself, his own demon unfurled inside him. It could smell her, not the stereotypical scent of brimstone and sulfur but a smell like rotting apples and mold. Beneath that smell was the smell of decay and as Dante watched, the flesh began to peel away.

Author's note- Sorry for the shortness of the chapter and the time it took to post. I'll try to get to the next chapter as soon as I can.


	7. Chapter 6

**Devil May Cry**

**Devil May Cry belongs to CAPCOM. I own the plot, nothing else. Hope you enjoy. I don't know when I'll update next. -Gadget**

**CHAPTER 6**

Dante's guns, Ebony & Ivory, had a life of their own sometimes. They came awake in his hands and spat out the special bullets into the demon's face. Round after round erupted, slamming into her face and tearing away the flesh. That rotten apple and mold smell was replaced with the rank coppery scent of blood and gun smoke.

Devotion had vanished, taking use of the opportunity to escape while he was preoccupied. Smart woman. Dante stepped to the side and shoved a new clip into the butt of Ivory while doing the same for Ebony a second later. He spun the guns in his hands, getting a little showy with the trick.

"Come out babe," He called into the club.

Movement off to his left and Ebony spun again, his finger squeezing down on the trigger. Bang-bang-bang! The demon screamed and jumped into the air, trying to slam Dante into the ground. He twisted to the side, holstering Ivory and unsheathing Alastor all in the blink of an eye.

The demon didn't get a chance to scream before the blade sank into her neck. Blood sprayed and her head flopped onto the floor, rolling under a nearby table. It brought a dark smile to his face.

Dante wiped down Alastor with a napkin from the bar. It took six napkins to get even a small amount of the blood off and he simply sheathed the blade, planning to clean it later.

"Hunter," Devotion stepped from a back room, Bubba at her side holding a leather case.

The case was most likely full of the money she owed him for his services. He held out his hand. "The money," He said.

Devotion looked at the case and then at Dante. "Thank you Hunter, I will replace Camille if you so wish."

The demon inside growled. "The money," He said again, his voice low with anger.

She gave him the leather case and he walked out of the club without another word.

(pagebreak)

"Devils never cry," He told Trish, wiping away the single tear that fell slowly down her cheek. If only that were the truth.

(pagebreak)

"Devil May Cry," Dante said into the phone.

"I...I need help." The voice on the other line was young, teenaged or maybe younger.

"Sorry, we closed at nine." He was about to hang up the phone when he heard the young voice protesting.

"Wait! Please! I can pay you! Please don't hang up, please!"

He pressed the phone back to his ear. "Speak to me kid," He said. "You know what I do?"

The reply was slow, hesitant. "You kill monsters."

"Indeed I do," Dante said dryly. "What monster do you want me to kill?''

This time the reply came in an instant. "The Boogeyman."


End file.
